


if you're still breathing

by Ser_Renity



Series: Final Arc [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, Grimmjow blushes a lot in my fics, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reunions, fight me, post-624
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3868081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ser_Renity/pseuds/Ser_Renity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It really has been a while.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if you're still breathing

**Author's Note:**

> holy shit I actually wrote a thing before the next chapter came out like wow look at me go
> 
> this is loosely based on that wonderful fanart y'all have probably seen by now:  
> http://monsieurpaprika.tumblr.com/post/117555163511/monsieurpaprika-grimmjow-only-says-his-true  
> (omg thank you so much for drawing that u wonderful person)
> 
> also by a conversation I had with this rly cool person who made me get yahoo messenger and somehow we talked about grimmjow for about eight hours or something  
> anyway, they also shared their super cool language headcanon with me so I totally had to run with it

“You’re..,” Ichigo began and his eyes widened, “Grimmjow!”

  
Behind the Hollow the Garganta still gaped open like the maw of a deadly predator, reminiscent of his own.

  
The look on his face wavered between a smile and a frown until he settled for something in between; a mask just like the one on his cheek. Bitter. Ashamed.

  
Ichigo stared at him, took in the foreign words that had been the first thing the Espada said to him after all this time. It was not what he had expected; not that he had thought about this. No, Grimmjow had been far from his mind for a while. After all, not much good came from thinking of a dead man.

  
He still looked the same at first glance; the same blue hair and eyes, the mask, the markings. It painted a pretty picture, it always had. Too pretty to be human, a beauty that was ethereal and intimidating.

  
“I thought you were dead,” Ichigo managed to say. His voice was rough and his head spun; it was a shock, to say the least.

  
Grimmjow averted his eyes and buried his hands deep in the pockets of his pants. It didn’t feel like it should have- they should have been fighting by now, should have finished the fight they started back in the sands of Hueco Mundo.

  
“I thought-” Ichigo began and looked around to the others for help, his train of thought quickly derailed, “I didn’t... You’re alive.”

  
Grimmjow huffed out a laugh and looked at him for the first time since he ripped a hole into the fabric of space. It had been like a magic act- the return of Grimmjow, now in theaters near you.

  
Despite his surprise Ichigo knew he had to do something; for now that meant taking in the appearance of the Sexta Espada in more detail. Did that name even apply if Aizen was gone?

  
Grimmjow did not look the same, not at all.

  
The hair, the eyes, the mask, the markings. The image clear and vibrant.

  
However, over time it seemed to have been distorted and built upon; he had changed and it became apparent to everyone granting him a second glance.

  
Grimmjow’s features looked to be even sharper than before, his angular face marred only by his expressions. Ichigo noted he looked tired, maybe annoyed, but there was no outright anger, no inferno of rage as if the Arrancar had learned to calm himself.

  
His attire had changed as well but Ichigo didn’t pay any mind to that or the deepened markings underneath blue eyes. What he fixated on and couldn’t seemed to stop staring at was something else.

  
A wrangled sound played out in his mind, an unpleasant memory forever put on repeat. Again and again and again, an endless onslaught of the same image that suddenly seemed like less than a nightmare and more of a repressed reality. He had forgotten what it had been like, out there in the desert with his cracked lips and the blood on the hilt of his sword.

Drip, drip, drip.

  
A scar like any other, a chasm cut into flesh.

  
Ichigo looked at it move like a snake through water, down to Grimmjow’s sternum and around his neck. To him it looked like half a noose, half a life taken.

  
Nnoitra, Ichigo thought, Nnoitra’s final mark on this world.

  
For just a moment he felt urged to run his fingers across the rough patches of skin, trace the outlines until maybe they didn’t cut quite as deep. A guardian’s thought. One only a fool could entertain.

  
Nothing had been said for a while; Ichigo turned to look at the others but they only smirked at him - Yoruichi - or looked just as shocked as he felt.

  
Grimmjow didn’t speak, didn’t make that snide comment that everyone expected. As it were he only stayed put; that unidentifiable expression still in place.

  
“It’s been a while,” Ichigo said and something about his own words sent his stomach into spasms. Happy. He was happy. It was a silent realization, nothing disconcerting or sad. Happy was good; strange, maybe, but always good. And it had been a while; eternally so, a time he had not spent counting hours or days. So maybe he had not waited, maybe he had not fully grasped the concept of Grimmjow as a person who might return to help him. But now the Espada was here and alive and an Espada no more.

  
Their eyes met and time kept moving on, did not slow down just for this particular reunion.

  
Ichigo realized he had been staring for a while, but there was no way to explain his reasons to the others. They didn’t know, they hadn’t been there as Nnoitra brought down his weapon like a guillotine of his own making.

  
Ichigo knew, somewhere, somehow, that the memory was not any different from others; he had seen injuries and death and people being hurt beyond fixing. It was nothing new, nothing but an exhausting addition to a growing line of cruelties. That of course did not mean he cared less; but the feeling of shock grew scarce.

  
Grimmjow’s death had been different and to this day Ichigo wondered why that was. It had been quick, unexpected, a threat following another threat. But that was not it, that was not enough; something else differed and thus stayed in mind.

  
It was only now he realized what it was.

  
“I should have known that wouldn’t kill you,” Ichigo said, his voice slightly higher than normal, “Takes more than that to get rid of you, huh, Grimmjow?”

  
The name tasted weird on his tongue, familiar but unreasonably so. They had never been close or on friendly terms, not in the slightest. But things were different in the light of someone wanting to destroy the world; Ichigo had sensed as much even before the Garganta was ripped into the world. An alliance seemed to good to be true- but what else could this mean, what other conclusion could he ever arrive at?

  
Grimmjow sneered as if the question was beneath him. His eyes widened as Ichigo took a tentative step closed. It was just a fraction, just a tiny movement and yet it carried a meaning that was difficult to ignore.

  
“Like I’d die that easily,” Grimmjow snarled and blinked slowly.

  
Haughty, cold, angry. His voice was still the same. Ichigo had forgotten how it resonated with him.

  
Suddenly there was a smile spreading on Ichigo’s face, one that was uncontrollable and bright and genuine. It had been years.

  
Logically, he had no reason to be happy. On the contrary, he should be angry or concerned or at the very least demanding answers.

  
However, there was that coil of giddy happiness spreading warmth inside him; that feeling of _it’s been a while_ and _I thought you were dead_.

  
Grimmjow stared back at him now, his brow furrowed. His eyes narrowed as Ichigo stepped closer, always cautious, always expecting the worst.

  
“Welcome back,” Ichigo said and grinned, his eyes crinkled. It was so very strange to be alive in a world where Aizen’s Sexta Espada had not died.

  
Grimmjow winced visibly and from up close he could see him swallow and grow slightly red.

  
They weren’t that far apart now, barely three steps. Closer than they’d ever been without murderous intent.

  
Ichigo wondered what the offer had been; power, maybe? The crown of Hueco Mundo? There wasn’t much he could imagine the other might want.

  
Grimmjow grimaced and averted his face. He looked back at Ichigo and avoided his eyes once more. Then he opened his mouth only to close it again a few seconds later having said nothing at all.

  
It could have been funny had it not been so confusing. Ichigo noted the Arrancar looked flustered, if irritated; it was obvious something was on his mind, something urgent and immediate.

  
“Kurosaki,” he muttered after a while and stopped again. His eyes darted back and forth between the people watching them and Ichigo himself.

  
“Te he extrañado,” Grimmjow said, finally, and his blush darkened, “Ich habe dich vermisst.”

  
Ichigo looked at him, really looked. Of course he had changed. They both had.

  
And as his wide grin faded into a soft smile he realized that it didn’t matter if he could tell exactly what Grimmjow had said.

  
He understood.

  
“Me too,” Ichigo said and kept on smiling, “Idiot.”

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> sad meme noises


End file.
